An Outlaw, A Queen, A New Adventure
by FraiseDandelion
Summary: A series of Dark!OQ oneshots as they begin their new adventure together.
1. New Beginning

**AN:** Dark!OQ week-Free Day yo. I have a Dory brain, but _someone_ asked me once (like three decades ago) to smut-up that Dark!OQ scene where TEQ checks Robin out so, here you go (sort of). I took several liberties ;). Also, I'll post all Dark!OQ drabbles in here. Sometimes they'll be lineal (first three will be), and sometimes not. Enjoy. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

 **New Beginnings**

It shouldn't affect her this much; the way his pants strain over his ass, the way the muscles on his back ripple even through layers of clothes, the way her insides warm up at his small grunts, huffs, and sighs as he digs deeper in front of her.

But moments later he's turning around, a bored and certainly annoyed look on his face. Yet she can't focus on anything else but the way his lips look, scruffy beard tantalizing her, calling out to her to just lean in, to just get a taste of him as a free woman.

Will he gasp if she bites on his lower lip like the _other_ one did? Will he groan when her tongue grazes his? Or deepen the kiss like the _other_ one used to do? Will he grip her waist, palm her ass, and push her further against the tree behind her?

 _Gods_ , she shouldn't have stared at him. Should've just done this with her magic, that way she would already be on her way to her better half's demise.

That way, she would've been staring at Regina's dying face instead of his handsome face glistening with sweat.

But her curiosity, that voice inside of her begging her to flirt, to gawk at him, had won over.

And now she has to deal with _this_.

With him staring at her intently from six feet away, a knowing look on his face.

"If all you wanted was to peek, you should've only asked, _your majesty_."

"What ever gave you _such_ an idea," she says, arching an eyebrow in false disdain at the thought. But still, she remains that way, leaning against a tree, lower lip being pulled between her teeth. She needs to get a grip of herself, or a firm grip of him so she can ride him to oblivion-

"For starters, you could've done this with magic," he says arching an eyebrow.

Her lips form a thin line as she straightens her spine and moves away from the tree, walking closer to him. "I rather save my energy for destroying my," she rolls her eyes in disgust, " _better_ half."

"Oh is that so," the dark haired man says on an arched brow, resting his arm on the top of the shovel's wooden handle.

The Queen scoffs. "What's the sudden interest in what I do or don't do? You don't mind doing a little dirty work, do you?" She asks her intense gaze directed at him, unblinking.

Robin offers her a sly smile and an arch of his brow, "I must say, all the dirty work I've done have had their much _adequate_ compensations."

Oh and that, that's definitely a little something that the _other_ didn't have. That bluntness, that little glint in his eyes that awakens in her a hunger she's never felt before.

"Is that what you're looking for, _thief_? Compensation?" She asks, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she crosses her arms in front of her chest, breasts almost spilling out of her dress.

He breaks their gaze, and swallows hard when he merely glimpses at her chest, before he's grinning and meeting her gaze again.

"I'm not an overly generous man. I won't do a job out of the goodness of my heart."

"And what type of," she sighs for good measure, lowering her voice as she continues, " _compensation_ are you looking for?"

He seems to consider the question for a moment, looks at her chest again, only to smirk knowingly at her. "How about a glimpse at what this dementing town has to offer?" He asks, similar to what she'd offered earlier that night.

The Queen smirks, bites her lower lip and arches an eyebrow.

"Keep digging," she nods to the spot on his side, and Robin turns around, grin in place all the while feeling her eyes on his back.

The moment is short lived, for when he starts to dig again -less focused this time- the shovel collides exactly with what she's looking for. He digs out the box, and almost immediately the Queen rips it from his hands, opens it to bring out a pair of scissors and stares intently at them, a devilish grin appearing on her face.

"Allow me to understand. How do a pair of scissors become Regina's demise?" He asks, his face straight but oh so obviously amused by the absurdity of it all.

She simply stares at him straight in the eyes.

"My apologies, your majesty," he bows in front of her in false reverence, "I just fail to see the logic behind this _absurdity_."

"Would you like to never _see_ again?"

"Feisty, are we?"

"They're magical scissors-"

"That much I gather," he says matter of factly and the queen rolls her eyes, decides to ignore it and continue talking.

"I'll use them to finally separate myself from Regina, _completely_."

"...So when the time comes, you can destroy her without destroying yourself in the process," he finishes, nodding at her as if to let her know he's finally catched on.

The Queen smirks, stares at him. "For a peasant, you're not that stupid."

"For an evil queen, you're not that evil."

"Are you," she raises an eyebrow, blood red lips curling up in a smirk, heartbeat raising as she lowers the scissors, "challenging me?"

"Oh I wouldn't dare challenge royalty, _m'lady_ ," he smirks.

"Careful, _thief_ ," she moves closer to him, gaze travelling around his face, contemplating him, "I would hate having to burn your pretty face."

"Oh, giving away compliments so quickly-"

The queen laughs, a sarcastic thing from deep within and then turns around to place the box with the scissors on the floor.

"I still need you to do something for me," she says, matter of factly, turning to face him with an arch of her brow. He smirks, is about to say something but the Queen beats him to it. "And _then_ you can have the compensation you _clearly_ desire."

Amusement sparkles in his dark blue orbs, _something_ else too, and already her center aches in anticipation, her nipples sensitive against the material of her dress. Would he be rougher that the other? Would he last through a couple of rounds? Would he be bossy? Thicker? Would he-

"Or maybe, I could receive part of it in advance."

Oh and is _he_ forward or what. Well this is a game she plays _oh_ , so well. So with a smirk, the Queen walks closer to him, and whilsts some men in her past held a hint of fear in their eyes, Robin doesn't, instead excitement dances in his eyes, mixed with lust.

He doesn't take a step back, doesn't move, doesn't break their gaze, not even when she's so close they share a breath, and that fact is exciting in itself. The Queen's breaks into a lopsided grin that has Robin's eyes moving down to look at her lips. A beat passes, then two, and just when she's about to talk, he crashes his lips against hers.

He doesn't give her time to process, kisses her roughly, tongue slipping through her lips. But the Queen responds eagerly, groaning when his palms grips her hips, and she tries to give back as much as she can, all lips and tongue and bites and moans. But she likes control, likes having men and women at her mercy. So she breaks the kiss, ignoring his groan of disapproval, ignoring the wetness pooling between her thighs, the ache of her taut nipples, and instead holds his face by the jaw, and smiles devilishly. He smirks at her, through half lidded eyes, and says, "I'm afraid that's not good enough-"

He growls, closes his eyes when her hands move down his front to cup his half-hard cock, palming him, tracing his length through his pants.

"You, _thief_ ," she begins, voice deep, adding a bit more pressure to her ministrations, "are a distraction." The Queen leans in to bite his lower lip, pulling it between her teeth and freeing it while meeting his gaze.

He lets out a deep chuckle, hisses when she traces his tip, is about to reply to her, but the devilish woman slips her much too small hand down the front of his pants, wraps it around his cock and gives him a slow stroke.

"Gods," he near shouts when she swipes her thumb against the head, circling the slit.

"Is that good enough?" She uses his own words against him, a pout adorning her features, only to chuckle darkly at the way his palms grip her waist more tightly, starting to thrust into her hand.

"Regina," he growls.

It's like a bucket of iced water has fallen over her, and the Queen tenses in front of him, opens her lust filled eyes, face crestfallen at the name he uttered. She shakes her head, at herself, at him, and quickly draws her hand back from his thickness.

"You're a distraction," she repeats, voice deeper.

Long gone is the teasing tone, the sexual woman, a new (old) darkness settling over her.

He is a distraction, from her goals, from her vengeance, from her _freedom._ So the Queen takes a step back, and then another, not meeting his gaze.

And just when he's about to call her name, she waves her wrist and a cloud of purple surrounds them.

• • •

She holds him hostage for hours, erection long gone, sexually frustrated and completely ignored as they wait for the _other_ Regina to come. He tries to get her to talk, to think about what she's doing. He doesn't even know why he cares, because it's quite obvious the Queen doesn't, but he just _does,_ even though it's clear that the Queen he'd seen during the night at the forest isn't the same as the one he sees in Regina's office.

So when the Queen wordlessly, and quite visibly distraught, gives him a vial with something belonging to an _Aladdin_ later that day, he nods thankfully, albeit, for some reason, sad, understanding that this is what she's giving him _back_ , a way to get back _home_.

And without words of goodbye or a sly smirk, she disappears in a cloud of purple smoke he knows, for some reason, he'll come to miss.

• • •

He shouldn't be thinking of her, especially since he's only known the woman for less than a day.

But he does.

He thought of her when he realized that in this realm she doesn't exist, that in this realm Snow and Charming killed her. And the small pang in his heart had surprised him.

He thought of her when he heard that the Young King was looking for her, wanting to avenge his grandparent's death and mother's kidnap.

And still, now, as the red haired beauty in front of him fills his jar of ale to the brim, her bosom almost spilling out of her corset, he thinks of _her_. Of brunette hair, of small hands, of dark but expressive eyes.

Even though she's realms away, even though she most definitely isn't thinking of him, even though he won't get to see her again.

But as he takes a swig of ale, he catches a glimpse of _someone_ from the corner of his eye.

When he turns to face the intruder, he finds himself smiling, albeit smugly, and the Queen smiles in return.

• • •

They compensate each other down the line.


	2. Falling

**A/N:** Eva made this ten times better than it was. Bless her soul! I love you dude. I forgot to post this short thing yesterday for **Dark!OQWeek** Day 6 (AKA **smut day** ) and I almost even forgot posting it today. Sorry for that, I have a horrible memory :) Still, hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

 **Falling**

The Queen's falling for him, hard and fast, and falling for him is nothing short of exquisite.

It used to be the other one, the _good_ Regina, who would usually fall for someone. First Henry, then Roland and Robin, slowly pulling _her_ along into the equation.

But this time it's not influenced by her good side. No. This time it's _her,_ on her own, falling for a man who understands her.

And that scares her.

It isn't the toe curling, sizzling pleasure that grows in intensity and length whenever they find themselves together.

It isn't the fact that he'd made her see hay beds in a new light after having his way with her on her second night in his realm. Or the fact that the first time they fucked, she couldn't stop thinking about why it's never felt that _good_ before.

It isn't that he's an incredibly gifted lover.

It's not his built, his thickness, his length, nor the fact that he can go on until she's achy limbed, warm all over, worn down and incredibly satisfied.

No.

It's the fact that when he enters her, he looks her straight in the eyes, a look so soft, yet so absolutely hot and determined that makes her center quiver as he begins to move and she's back again to that first night with him, to thinking about how not even the _other_ Robin, the _good_ Robin, was able to make _her_ feel like this _;_ so incredibly alive.

It's the fact that he can't help himself but close his lips around a pebbled nipple, sucking and nibbling, instantly smirking when she lets out a shaky breath, lustful eyes meeting his.

It's the fact that he refuses to move right when she's hovering close to the edge, back arching, toes curling, body tensing, waiting, _begging_ for him to take her completely and fuck her to oblivion.

It's the fact that he grins whenever she curses loudly (or softly), depending on how quick his movements are.

It's the fact that he bites her lower lip and licks it too when he's losing himself to the feelings, to the pleasure. When his thrusts become less measured and more frantic. When the only sounds in the small tent are those of the wind outside, and those of skin _slap slap slapping_ against skin harshly as she screams and he groans and spills inside of her.

It's the fact that when he slips out of her, cock already soft, he gives her a small shy smile so uncharacteristically of this, often, serious thief that makes her stomach flutter (already) in ways it only does with him. And it's these moments, when he allows her to see beneath the hard surface, the ones that have her slowly, but surely, falling hard for him.

It's the fact that he doesn't leave right after fucking her, and that's quite possibly the first time no one leaves _her_ , the Queen, after satisfying their needs —between them it's more than a romp against hay, much more. Between them there's no guilt or being left feeling empty, not like there had been with past lovers and countless whores. Because even with the _other_ Robin, there had always been that slight emptiness deep in _her_. No good man in their right mind would dare bed The Queen, so _he_ bedded his Regina. The same Regina that suppressed _her._ That hid _her_ , trying to hide from herself the fact that she used sex as a weapon, used people for sex. But _now_ , now _she_ gets to experience, to _actually_ experience what her odd half had for several months; pure bliss without the self-loathing of having used somebody, without the doubts, the guilt, the emptiness. No. Now _she_ feels firsthand the unadulterated happiness of being treasured and quite possibly, even loved.

It's the fact that he, though a murderer, a thief, a dangerous man to the outside world (much like her), curls up naked behind her, all sweaty and warm, and wraps a hand across her middle, drops a kiss to her own sweaty shoulder as she tries to catch her breath from the one too many (is there such a thing?) orgasms his cock or tongue or fucking skilled fingers have given her.

It's the fact that he asks her if she's okay after fucking her thoroughly —another thing no one ever dare ask her before, and she kisses him, tries to hold back the moisture on her eyes, and arches a brow, easing his worries.

It's the fact that though it's still new to have someone to _actually_ care for her, she has to admits it's quite exciting, though a bit overwhelming at times.

It's the fact that, though she's said countless of times that she's _not_ a cuddler, she still lets him hold her, lets him wrap the sheets around her, lets him pull her closer to his front, butt firmly pressing against his soft groin. Then he drops soft kisses across her neck and jaw, smirking when she sighs and intertwines her fingers with his across her stomach.

It's the fact that sometimes he wakes her up with kisses down her front, or kisses on her breasts, or tongue lapping at her center. She asks him why and he gives her a cliché answer of not being able to get enough of her, that smirk ever present. She smiles and lets him have his way again, confusing them even more as to who's more insatiable out of the two.

It's the fact that when he calls out her name in ecstasy, she feels herself wanting to draw it from him over and over again, louder and louder, wanting everybody across all realms to hear him. To understand that the feared Queen has found someone in her life that actually wants to be _there_.

It's the fact that he kisses her roughly when she least expects him to, catching her off guard and then leaving her alone to deal with the stupid flutters, the desire, and the fucking smile that won't leave her face.

It's the fact that he makes her smile several times throughout the day. Even when they're hiding and running away from her son, the King, who's intent on avenging his grandparent's death and mother's disappearance. It had hurt, at first, knowing that the teenager wasn't really her son in this realm, and worse, he wanted her dead. But Robin had prevented her from falling into the endless pit of self-loath, made her smile with comments of her son, her actual son, and the fact that they're here, _together,_ because of him. So she smiles nods at him and aids in killing the King's men that unknowingly move closer to them in the forest.

It's the fact that he agrees, wholeheartedly, to find a way to leave this realm and go to The Enchanted Forest. To leave what he knows as _home_ and start from scratch in a new place... with _her_.

His _first_ choice, something she'd never been before.

It's the fact that no matter how many times they fight, blood warming, veins throbbing, having screaming matches because she's too thick headed and he's too dense —he matches her in temper; how fitting— they still manage to fix and overcome their differences. He doesn't go away, perhaps doesn't sleep in the same bed, or in her chambers, but he's still there in the morning.

It's the fact that though they've not said those _three_ words (it's too soon for them), they feel it in the way he watches her fall asleep after a nightmare, or in the way she bandages him and worriedly tells him to _Please be more careful the next time!_ whenever he returns with a minor injury from a _job._

It's the fact that when she pushes him away, afraid of falling deeper for him, afraid of losing him like she has lost all of the people she's ever cared for, he still stays there, still pushes, still cares for her, _all_ of her.

But it's the fact that they have a second, a third, and countless reasons for falling in love with each other what makes this new adventure with him nothing short of exquisite.


	3. Mumble

**A/N:** Yes, even _I'm_ surprised I posted two things on the same day. Shoutout to beautiful perfect Eva once again. Enjoy! I love my Dark!OQ pure-sweet-cute babies.

 **Mumble**

He recently starts _mumbling_ something in his sleep every night.

A small movement of air between crossed lips that more often than not have her perking up, focusing more on him beside her as she tries to make sense of his words.

But she often ends up ignoring it, blaming it on an overly active imagination as they drift off to dreamland.

But today is different.

He kisses lovingly the freckles of her shoulder, nipping and licking as his hands hold her hips tightly in place. The bed squeaks under them, albeit a little bit, as he thrusts his length into and into her, the skin of his pelvis slap slap slapping against her perked up butt as he fucks her from behind.

He _mumbles_ something, but she can't focus because he's fucking her so good her skin is all tingly, her limbs are buzzing, his cock is hard and thick and brushing against that spot inside of her that makes her keen.

And she does so, almost on clue.

Arches her back in that way he loves so much, and takes him even deeper inside of her as she mewls and begs him to fuck her harder.

God, he does so. Leans back and turns her over quickly, slipping out of her wet heat for a moment as he adjusts his footing on the floor and rests one bent knee on the edge of the bed, pulling her further down. Then, with a mere sly grin, he positions himself on her entrance, leans forward to drop a kiss against right on the center of her chest, and thrusts into her in deep, hard, fast strokes that have her panting, and trembling and arching her back, her hard nipples pressing against his warm chest.

And, oh God, he brings a finger between their sweat slicked bodies, and plants his thumb against her clit, firmly moving it up and down, up and down, up and down. She's close, incredibly so, she's going to come so hard around his cock if he just keeps doing those deep fast thrusts that she loves so, if he just keeps sucking and biting on a nipple, if he just keeps rubbing her clit to the same rhythm of his thrusts, if he just keeps making those deep guttural sounds that she loves so much against her tit.

He continues, breathing heavily as he leans back, back straight, weight resting on the bent knee, and brings both of her calves to his shoulder, gaining new footing to increase his speeds. And he does so, groans at her tightness and calls out her name at the same time she does too.

" 'bin," she calls out his name, quite but not really, in a long drawn moan near delirium the moment he slows down, closes her legs together in front of him, wraps his arm around her thighs, holding her in place, as he begins easing in now more slowly.

"Gods," he lets out, a deep guttural thing on a shaky breath as he stares at the ceiling and eases out again, starting a new rhythm.

He does it again, eases in slowly, filling her to the hilt and the Queen's jaw hangs open, her eyes roll to the back of her head as she stills and bites her lower lip, focusing on the exquisite pleasure that blooms from her center and out out in torrents.

"Better?" He asks, panting, but the 'mmhmm' and her toes curling on the side of his head are more than enough answer. With a grin, and a hiss, Robin sneaks his right hand between their bodies, between her thighs and plants his thumb firmly against her clit again, moving it up and down up and down in that way he knows she loves so much.

"Robin," she mewls again, on a short breath and blindly grabs at his thigh to ground herself as she thrusts back against his length, faster, wanting him to resume the quick pace of before instead of this slow one. Yet Robin groans and stays still in front of her as she tries to fuck him, and when he resumes thrusting into her, they're back to the quick, sharp, long thrusts of before. She screams out, her body tightly coiled, desperate for release and she's going to, she'll-

"I love you," he _mumbles_ on a sigh against a calf and she gasps and stills her orgasm washing over her in waves, and she shudders on the bed as he bites his lip and helps her ride out her orgasm with quick thrusts that gradually slow down to a stop.

She doesn't move as she stares at him from the bed, half lidded eyes, sweaty skin, dry lips.

"What?" She asks, breathless, ignoring the slight tremors that still course through her body as he adjusts his footing and his still hard cock slides a bit out of her, only the tip inside. He couldn't? He didn't, he didn't just say…

"Nothing," he _mumbles_ and swallows hard as he starts to slide into her heat again, closing his eyes at her slickness.

And though she trembles, though her whole body's already responding to him, she can't focus on that, refuses to, not when he clearly said-

"Robin-"

He stills and scoffs, at himself or at her, refuses to meet her eyes and instead stares at the ceiling as he releases his hold on her legs against his chest and pushes his fingers through his hair.

"I've ruined this, have I not?" He asks, still not meeting her eyes.

And the Queen sighs and pulls her shaky legs from his shoulders, planting her feet on the mattress, knees pointing at the ceiling. She leans forward on her elbows, and eases back, his cock slowly sliding out of her on a sigh from both of them.

He doesn't say anything, still, though she knows he wants to, can see the apology forming in his head already as he nervously bites his lower lip, awaiting her response.

"No-"

"Forgive me, I know this is too soon," he interrupts her before she has the time to explain herself and for a moment she's annoyed, but Robin is still distraught in front of her and she's jovial for the feelings those words caused in her so she won't let him dwell on insecurities, on guilt, on nerves.

"Don't take them back," she whispers, almost begging at him.

"What?" He asks on a whisper, and she pushes herself up to kneel in front of him and holds his head in between her hands as she pecks his lips and then sits on the bed and pulls at his hand to follow her onto the bed. He does so, crawls on top of her up until her head rests against her pillow and his arms rest on either side of her, looking intently at her. She leans forward, catching his lips with hers in a tender kiss. Robin sighs against her lips and the Queen wraps her hands around his neck, bringing him down to lay on top of her, bodies now impossibly closer.

But the need for air is overpowering, and Robin breaks the kiss, forehead still resting against hers as he looks into her eyes.

"It's been a long time since I've heard those words," she murmurs, eyes glistening. She had forgotten what it felt like. No one, since Daniel, had uttered those words to her in that context. He swallows hard and nods, thumb caressing her cheek. "Let me have them," she near begs, eyes glistening with a happiness so strangely fitting to those dark orbs. The blue eyed man sighs in relief and kisses her firmly, sneaking a hand between their bodies to accommodate himself on her entrance.

Later that night, when her back's pressed to his front, and she feels sleep claiming her, she hears that soft sleepy _mumble_ again uttered against her shoulder as he pulls her even closer to him.

 _I love you_


End file.
